28. Interlude
INTERLUDE
“ W here the fuck is she?”
Robbie Esposito, a no-nonsense kid from the Bronx who was easily the best assistant Lucas Lyons had ever had, trembled like the last leaf in an autumn storm.
And Lucas couldn’t have cared less.
For four days, he’d been asking the same goddamn question.
Four days since he’d woken up in Xavier and Francesca Parker’s Mayfair flat to an empty bed, the remnants of half-made French toast in the kitchen and some burnt espresso in a Moka pot on the stove.
Four days since his assistant had delivered the email sent from Marie, which simply read:
Hi Robbie,
I’m sorry to do this so last minute, but an emergency has come up, and I need to take a leave of absence. Please tell Mr. Lyons that I’ll be in touch next week. If that’s not acceptable to him, I understand that I may have to lose my job.
Thank you,
Marie
Lucas didn’t know what part of the note had infuriated him more—that he was back to “Mr. Lyons” or that she’d sent the note to Robbie instead of him.
In the suite at the Connaught that Robbie had procured for the remainder of their time in London, Lucas prowled while he struggled with mundane tasks like tying a half-Windsor knot or attaching his cufflinks to his shirt.
His assistant looked very much like he wanted to burrow into the ground like a rabbit.
“I’m sorry, sir. She hasn’t been answering her text messages. I don’t think she even has her phone turned on.”
These were things Lucas already knew, given that every time he tried to call Marie, the phone went to voicemail.
He was also aware that none of her family members knew where she was—although he suspected at least one or all of them was lying.
Not one of her irritatingly sharp siblings seemed the slightest bit worried that their sister with a severe social anxiety disorder and probable ochlophobia was lost in the very big world.
Meanwhile, whenever he thought of Marie lost in another subway or making her way through a crammed railway station, Lucas wanted to break something.
Again.
“Do you…do you want to send her notice?” Robbie suggested, and then promptly braced himself like he was genuinely afraid Lucas might strike him.
Lucas stopped by the window. “You mean fire her?”
Robbie nodded weakly. “She did say it would be acceptable in her email, given the circumstances. So, it’s not like she could claim wrongful termination or anything like that.”
Lucas recalled some nonsense about how losing her job would be necessary if her absence wasn’t “acceptable” to him.
Damn right it wasn’t acceptable.
But neither was not seeing her every day.
“Why the fuck would I fire her?” Lucas snapped. “She’s the best chef we’ve ever had, and we literally paid for her to become that very thing for us.”
He hated every word that came out of his mouth. Lies, all lies, distilling Marie down to such reductive traits.
God, she was so much more than a chef.
She was a sister and an aunt and a granddaughter to her enormous, intimidating yet incredibly caring family.
She loved knitting podcasts and something called #crochettok. She laughed at videos of golden retrievers and knew every lyric Taylor Swift had ever written (even though she pretended not to).
She was a mess of contradictions in the best possible way. Outspoken yet incredibly shy. Intuitive yet na?ve. Fully aware of some of the ugliest things this world had to offer, and at the same time shockingly innocent of so many of its gifts.
Gifts, Lucas realized, he had been counting on sharing with her.
More than that, she was his sweet Marie in a million other undefinable ways it had taken forty-one years to realize he wanted and now couldn’t imagine living without.
When, exactly, had that happened?
Right about when he’d lost her, apparently. And for no fucking reason he could comprehend.
“And she didn’t say a word about why she had to leave?” he demanded for what had to be the twentieth time in the last four days.
Robbie, clearly wishing he had another answer, could only shake his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve tried her phone many times, and I’ll keep trying, but?—”
“That’s all right.” Lucas continued pacing around the suite.
Something had obviously spooked her. Even now, he wondered if it was talk about their future.
The possessive pronouns, the terms of endearment.
God help him, he’d tried to keep them to himself, but in the heat of the moment, he just hadn’t been able to do it.
Honestly, the girl was lucky he hadn’t asked her to marry him. The sex had been that good .
The sex. That had to be it. She’d cried, after all, and while he’d thought she was just overcome with emotion, he couldn’t be sure.
Still, he hadn’t handled it that badly, had he?
They’d fallen asleep together. He’d watched her drift off with the light of the moon reflecting off her skin like mother-of-pearl. She’d smiled as he had stroked her cheek, then burrowed into his chest with the easy, if unconscious, affection that had made his heart break for the sweetness of it.
But obviously it hadn’t been sweet enough.
Clearly, she’d woken, taken stock of the situation, and run away before she had to face him.
He knew her well enough now to know she’d probably thought the worst of herself.
Convinced herself she had betrayed Daniel, despite the fact that his brother had probably dipped his pen in a dozen ink wells in the Hamptons over the last three weeks.
Or maybe she was embarrassed that she’d been as bold as she had, turning up at his door stark naked.
God knew it had shocked the hell out of him.
But that had to be it, right? She was ashamed. Or guilty, the loyal little treasure. Or maybe she thought he regretted it.
It couldn’t be further from the truth.
“We have to track her down,” Lucas told Robbie.
“Of course, sir. I’m still calling every hour, and the minute she picks up, I’ll?—”
“The second.” Lucas pulled on his jacket and grabbed his briefcase.
For a second, he contemplated throwing it out the window.
Fuck the meetings. Fuck this city. Fuck everything except finding Marie and bringing her…
where? Home? No. Someplace the stark reality of their lives couldn’t get to them.
Somewhere they could talk and he could figure out what he’d done wrong and fix it .
After all, Lucas thought as he opened the door, wasn’t that what he did?
He fixed things.
Always had.
Lucas was halfway to his first meeting of the day, one of the ongoing negotiations with a textile manufacturer here in London, when his phone rang.
Not Marie.
But someone else who hadn’t been answering his phone for the last four days, which made him suspect number one.
“Daniel.”
“Big brother! There the fuck you are.”
Lucas scowled as the Rolls passed St. James’s Palace. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Where have you been?”
“The Hamptons, of course. Jenny Hathaway—you remember her? Great rack, greater trust fund?” Daniel chuckled at his own joke. “Anyway, she had a bunch of us out for the last two weeks. Killer time—you really missed out.”
“I always miss out. Those parties are full of drunks and leeches.”
“Totally,” Daniel continued like Lucas hadn’t said a thing. “So, anyway, I was wondering if you could wire me an advance on this month’s allowance, brother. Mom’s being difficult, and don’t tell her, but I might have had a teensy little accident with the Aston.”
Lucas bit back a curse. “You crashed another car, Daniel?”
“The fence came out of nowhere, I swear it. And so did the ocean. It was insane, I tell you. Craziest clam dig I’ve been to in years. Totally worth it.”
Lucas rubbed his forehead and only just stopped himself from launching into a lecture he knew his brother wouldn’t listen to anyway.
But there was something else he needed to know first. “Was Marie there?”
There was noise in the background. A woman’s voice, sweet and high. For a moment, Lucas’s cold, empty heart stopped.
“Marie who? Oh, you mean the cook?”
“She’s a chef, not a cook,” Lucas grumbled.
“What happened? Did she fuck up on the job or something?”
“She did nothing. And you’ve been texting her for the last three weeks. Aren’t you in love with her?”
“In love?” Daniel sounded sincerely surprised to hear it.
“Oh! You mean what I told Mom. Honestly, bro, it was the only thing I could think of to get her off my ass about the senator’s daughter.
But, whatever, I could be love with the girl if you ever brought her back.
I mean, she’s gorgeous, you have to admit.
And the little minx is really good at playing hard to get.
Has she been asking about me? She has, hasn’t she? ”
“And Emma Hubbard?” Lucas barked. “Is she a little ‘minx’ too?”
“God, I told you, it’s not mine. I’m not recognizing shit until she gets a paternity test.”
“She got one two weeks ago, you jackass. The child is yours, and she’s having it. Which you damn well know, even though you’re gallivanting up and down the goddamn beach like a clown instead of acting like an impending father , Daniel.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Lucas could practically hear the gears of his brother’s gin-soaked brain turning.
Finally: “I can’t do it, Lucas. I can’t…you know me. I can’t be some kind of father.”
For a moment, Lucas almost felt sorry for his brother.
Daniel had always been the golden child of the family, which seemed like a gift until moments like these.
Praised when he didn’t deserve it. Given everything he ever wanted.
Adored for the bare minimum. His life had turned him into an empty charmer, someone who was completely unprepared for the difficulties that every person had to face at one point in time or another.
“Besides, it’s not my fault she won’t do the right thing and get rid of it.”
Not my fault , he said. It was always not my fault .